


Think Again

by distefanos



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Toronto FC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6249613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distefanos/pseuds/distefanos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guess I get to break the Toronto FC seal. I might be opening quite a flood from myself alone but here goes nothing.</p><p>A one shot of Ashtone giving Jonathan lessons on how to think less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think Again

The way Jonathan felt about soccer and the way he felt about Ashtone were so tangled up in each other that he hardly even saw it coming.

Both were such natural presences in his life, such consistent sources of happiness that they were nearly one and the same. Soccer wasn't soccer without Ashtone (which he had learned the hard way) and Ashtone wasn't Ashtone without late night FIFA sessions and early morning drills. Dragging each other out of bed before the sun using any means possible, racing the pink tinge of the break of day as it spread slowly across the sky, racing each other through warm up drills. Dragging each other through the harder parts of a day.

So when Ashtone tugged Oso away from the group he followed without thinking, both because being alone with Ashtone was nearly as natural as complete solitude and because he was altogether preoccupied by a tempest in his mind. And he was only slightly taken aback when Ashtone shoved him against the wall and dropped to his knees in front of him.

"Ash..."

"You think too much." Ashtone replied, a low growl, a deep threat from the back of his throat. He pressed a knuckle into the brick wall and glanced up at Jonathan, a small smile playing across one corner of his lips and eyes bright with excitement. Oso didn't argue the point. "Go on, what are you thinking right now."

Jonathan was silent for a moment, unwilling to let the onslaught of fears and worries reach the outside world. Ashtone waited quietly, no sense of urgency about him, just a steady calming presence that Jonathan had become so accustomed to. The silence stretched on and Ashtone hummed a little to himself, smiling absently as he flattened the hem of Oso's post match jacket. Finally Jonathan broke.

"It's just that there were so many moments when I could have been the difference between 1 point and 3 and I never took the chance. It doesn't even feel like I'm going forward, you know? Take chances. Don't think just take the chance that instinct tells you to take, that's what Vanney told me. But then I get loose in front of the net and I see a player with more skill, more experience than me approaching from a better angle and I choose the safe option. And then the chance is gone. Every time. And then when I do shoot..." He became aware then that his voice had dipped into petulance, that he was rhythmically shoving is fist into the rough concrete, speckling angry red pebble marks cross the side of his hand.

Ashtone held his hand steady with one of his own and pressed the other between Jonathan's legs.

"Ash..." Jonathan asked again and again received no explanation. He felt a flash of heat across his chest, creep up his neck and rest in his cheeks. Alternatively a different sort of heat flooded to his gut. He leaned against the wall, his other hand restlessly moving to pat down his hair.

"And what does all that thinking do for you, eh?" Ashtone challenged, still smiling. Always smiling. Eyes wide and welcoming and Jonathan lost a few moments staring back at him, feeling his blood rushing to the parts of him that Ashtone was giving attention.

"I don't know what you mean."

Abruptly Ashtone got to his feet, leaning against the wall next to Jonathan, his elbow brushing ever so slightly against Jonathan's shoulder. He could feel his cheeks burning and his erection pressing at the light fabric of their post match dress pants. Ashtone watched him, seeming pleased by the obvious effect he was having.

"I mean that you think too much and it does you no favours." Ashtone murmured, he leaned close to Oso and Oso leaned into him without even thinking. "I want to help you think less. Would you let me do that?"

All the nights in Uruguay that Jonathan spent missing Ashtone; all the crackly, infrequent phone conversations and the ensuing anxiety took on a new meaning in that moment. Jonathan thinks too much, about a lot of things, but he had never allowed himself to think about this. His fear kept him immobile.

"Will you let me, Jono?" Ashtone urged. None of the playful tone of friendship remained in his voice and no one happening across them now would see anything friendly in their body language. Jonathan nodded and wrapped an arm around Ashtone's neck, pulling him gently the rest of the distance and their lips met.

it was brief but so warm that Jonathan wanted to idle in the moment in perpetuity. It reminded him of the slow lazy heat pressing down on the city in the summer; it reminded him of the heat gently draining out of the day, holding his skin comfortably cool as the night arrived over Colombia; it reminded him of home and every meaning it took on for him. Ashtone broke off the kiss and leaned away, chuckling to himself.

"I can't believe that took 4 years." He said wryly. Jonathan didn't reply, didn't know where to start. "But today is about helping you think less." Ashtone continued. He got back to his knees and Jonathan shifted nervously.

"I don't see how --this-- is gunna help." He teased. They had gained back some of their easy friendship despite sharing something so intimate only moments before. Ashtone pressed his hand across the bulge in Oso's pants and he shifted again. "You want me to stop thinking for a few minutes, I guess. Whether I'm thinking about it or not, I still fucked up, I still have to do better, I'm still not good enough..." He trailed off and stifled a groan as Ashtone undid his pants and ran his hands down Jonathan's thighs, dragging his pants down so that they rested just above his knees and only his boxers still covered him. "Have you-er-done this before?" He asked lamely, his voice cracking when he tried to keep it even.

Ashtone chuckled again. "I want you to tell me exactly what you did wrong, what the consequences are, and how you're going to fix it." Ashtone said. He dipped a hand past the waistband of Oso's boxers and wound his other hand around Oso's leg to keep him steady.

"What I can--? I don't get how that--"

"Just talk." Ashtone said flatly. His hand flicked a constricted rhythm beneath Oso's boxers and suddenly Oso felt like complying to his every demand. He cleared his throat.

"Okay. I just. I feel shitty, you know? If I could just do better then the whole team could count on me. I want Michael, Seba, the senior players to know that when they pass me the ball I'm gunna make the right decision."

"And what is the consequence of you making the wrong one?" Ashtone asked, calmly, as if he were a teacher picking a student to answer a general question, fleshing out the best answer. His hand dipped low for a second, caressing and making Oso stop breathing. But then he started to stroke again and Oso knew he had to keep talking.

"They'll stop passing to me. They won't trust me and I won't have any time on the ball." He said shortly.

"But--" Ashtone began but Oso already knew where he was going.

"But it's also my job to win the ball back. If I can do that I can give myself more time on the ball." He said slowly, without meaning to, one hand rested on Ashtone's shoulder, picking absently at the hem of his shirt.

"And you're young." Ashtone said. His hand had stopped again and Oso scrambled to think of more to say. "Lean forward a minute." He directed and Oso let him slide his boxers down, his dick leaking pre come and hard and heavy in the cool air. He blushed again, stuttered for a moment in the silence. "They know you're learning, Oso, and they want you to get better. They wouldn't just stop passing you the ball." He massaged his hands slowly, kneading across Jonathan's thigh, and Jonathan hoped he wasn't aware of the slight quiver thrumming through Jonathan's body, or mistook it for him being cold.

"I know that." He replied a little harshly, all at once embarrassed by the moment.

"Do you."

Jonathan had a few girlfriends before. Nice girls, girls that really only wanted to have fun, girls that wanted everything. He'd gotten blow jobs before. But it never felt like this. Ashtone's tongue against the tip of his cock, the pressure of his mouth just barely taking him had him desperate for all of it faster than any orgasm he has ever had. Ashtone pressed his tongue just so for a moment before popping him back out again.

"You have to keep talking." He warned. He sat back on his heels and smiled up at Jonathan and he looked so fucking beautiful that the entire thing overwhelmed him. He wanted to think forever about what it all meant, but more than anything he wanted to feel his weight in Ashtone's mouth again.

"I can't remember what to say."

"Tell me how you can fix it." Ashtone prompted.

Somewhere along the beginning of Oso's sentence he felt the pressure of Ashtone's lips around him again, taking him deeper and he tried to keep his voice steady.

"I train as hard as I can every single day. Short of shutting my brain off, there's no way I can just, make the right decision all of a sudden." He paused and Ashtone's mouth and hand around his cock slowed so he hurried on. "There was that time that Vanney told me to just have fun..." He laughed a little at himself, the ridiculousness of such a simple command and how well it worked for him. "That day I stopped taking everything seriously for half an hour and things just seemed to go right. I think that was luck."

Ashtone stopped again and swallowed before saying "do you really believe that?"

Oso broke free of the moment for a second as he again became more aware of what was going on. "Ashtone, what are we--" but Ashtone interrupted him.

"Stop thinking. Just speak. How can you do better."

"I guess I need to focus more..." He began and when Ashtone just watched him, his hand gently squeezing the base of his cock, he tried to find something more to say. "When I'm thinking so much I'm not focused, I'm jumping to possible outcomes before I can even decide on a--on a play and then the play is gone..." He drifted off again, Ashtone's tongue down licking down his shaft was making it harder and harder to concentrate, he could feel an urgency building in his balls. Ashtone stopped again and Oso groaned.

"You need to focus." Ashtone demanded.

"I need to find a way to stay focused on what is right in front of me instead of the panic that's always there, getting in my way. I can't possibly focus much longer." Jonathan said in a different voice, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Then I guess you won't get there." Ashtone said. He pulled out and rested a palm on Jonathan's leg, wiping his wet hand across his jeans and then wrapping it around the hardness in his own pants.

"Nasty left back." Jonathan said quietly, awe creeping into his tone.

"I need a nickname for you that means you Fucking think too much. Can't even get through a blowjob without overthinking."

"Fuck." He replied quietly. He pressed his hands against his waist, wondered if it was actually over and cringed at the thought, an ache already slowly washing over his body. "So I lost?" He asked. Something in his tone made Ashtone laugh again.

"You always give up so damn easily." He said gruffly. He took Jonathan in his hand again and stroked loosely, slowly a few times and Jonathan groaned, thrust a little into his hand.

"I didn't mean to. Tell me what to say."

"So try again." He stroked more firmly, leaned forward so his lips brushed against the very tip.

"I--I need to believe that my first instinct is the right one. No- I need to just act on it. The more I can do that the more I'll trust myself. And the more the others will trust me." The way Ashtone's mouth moved now, fist twisting and tongue pressing the opposite direction was pulling all of Jonathan's attention to that sensation. "I-I-" when he stuttered so did the motion and desperately he tried to think of the answer. "If I find ways to keep myself focused-fuck-then I can--uhm--I'm gunna" Ashtone chuckled, the movement deep in his throat a delicious feeling against Jonathan and he couldn't hold back anymore, didn't have time to warn him and bit back his name as he spilled into his mouth and he shuddered trying to hold himself upright. Ashtone felt him shift and pressed his free hand against his thigh to steady him. The heat flooded back into Oso's chest and he blushed hard, his entire body sensitive to Ashtone in front of him, to his hand still pulling each pulse from his body. He turned his head away from Ashtone who he had been watching moments before, lips stretched around his dick and focused on bringing Oso through his orgasm so perfectly. Jonathan didn't know what else to do so he flicked his ear to stop him from continuing to lick and squeeze his sensitive skin. He couldn't stifle a low moan as Ashtone finally pulled his mouth off of him.

"It takes focus to do that, you know." Ashtone said as he reached into one of his pockets. He arched his back so that his chest pressed against the fabric of his shirt and Jonathan's eyes were drawn to his hard cock pressed up against his stomach under his jeans. He put something in Jonathan's hand and shifted to sit leaning against the wall. Jonathan exhaled heavily, wiped up and sank down to the floor beside him.

"It's hard to focus on anything else when someone is doing something that feels that good to you." He muttered.

"I was talking about me now. Bet you've never given a guy head, have you." Oso frowned and steadied a gaze in the linoleum in front of them before finally shaking his head. "You have to get the rhythm just right." Ashtone said, his tone bragging, the same voice he'd use to boost himself about a soccer technique.

"I can learn it."

"You will." Ashtone promised, and Oso grimaced, pushed some questions to the back of his mind. "Do you feel better now?"

They thought on that a while.

"I don't know how to just turn it off." Jonathan answered eventually, frustration colouring his tone, pulling his mouth into a frown. "I don't know how to learn to do that in the moment."

"You will." Ashtone promised again. He leaned his head on Oso's shoulder, squeezed his thigh assuringly. Jonathan pressed a hand against the side of Ashtone's head, a small act of pulling him close, an affectionate embrace. He swallowed a dozen more questions and let the silence wash over him, leisurely considering a future where he's everything Ashtone is promising he is. Safe there against the warmth of his very best friend.


End file.
